


Lady of the lake, Goddess of flowers

by Sapphicdaydreams



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Case Fic, Gen, Only hannigram if you squint at the end, author tried their best and promises to do better next week rip, can take place anytime during season 1, canon typical murder scenes, hannibal is an artsy asshole, i had a lot of fun coming up with the crime scene, let will graham fish in peace please, no beta we die like men, of course Botticelli's Primavera shows up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphicdaydreams/pseuds/Sapphicdaydreams
Summary: Will graham just wants to fish, it is the one nice thing he has left and all he wants is to spend his day off doing what he loves. But of course,  The FBI and The Ripper have other plans in mind.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25
Collections: Hannibal Flash Fic #001, Hannibal Flash Fic Week 1





	Lady of the lake, Goddess of flowers

**Author's Note:**

> not too happy with this and i want to do better next week. This is my first strictly SFW fic since ive been an adult so thats fun i guess. This is litwrally such a bad example of my writinf guys i know all the mistakes and run ons okay pls

Wills car wove between the trees as he drove down the gravel path of the off road. There was nothing surrounding him but tall pines and the occasional deer that would quickly gallop away. He was on his way to the usual spot, a part of the river he could access without having to get hip deep in vegetation. The sun glared in his eyes as he pulled up, stopping the car and slipping on a pair of sunglasses he kept in his center console. He hopped out of the car and grabbed his gear, his bait box lovingly decorated with stickers of his dogs that Alana had printed for him. The flys in his box jangled around as he walked down into the river.  
-  
For will graham, stepping into the river was like coming home. And in fairness, it was a big part of the only home he had ever known. Going from boat dock to boat dock as a child, the cool rush of the water was the only thing consistent in his life. No matter where he went, the water always connected back to the same place. Water was a place where he could just relax, a break from the gravity that pulled his mind in directions he didn’t want to go. This was his and only his. Sometimes he would find the odd feather floating along the stream, making him glance around frantically worried his sanctuary had been invaded at last. But so far that raven stag of his hadn’t found its way into the water, and he prayed it would stay that way.  
-  
It took an hour before he had any luck, fish swimming by him and completely ignoring the hook. The one time he had managed to catch a decently sized specimen, it wriggled away taking one of wills intricately made flies with it. Will grumbled at this, he was hoping to have fish for dinner tonight, maybe even bring some to Hannibal as a thankyou for his own meals he had cooked for Will. Muttering under his breath, Will fixed his line and swung it back and forth again into the rushing stream. Not long after he felt something bite and he reeled it in fast on impulse. The fish ended up being a decently sized Brook trout that he happily unhooked and packed into his cooler.  
Mornings like these are what he lived for. The sweat trickling down his back that was quickly cooled by the air, the soft slide of his fishing vest beneath his fingers, the faint crackle in his radio that was always fixed on the local country station. It seemed every time without fail when he went fishing the DJ would play “Country Roads”, which he would always hum along to. The dogs even loved it out here almost more than he did. Sometimes he would let them go with him, It was a special treat for his pack, so much so that the word “lake” would get their ears perked and claws scrambling on the wood floors. He couldn't take them often, their splashes and barks would scare all the fishes away, rendering his gear pointless. But when he did it was always a memorable day.  
-  
Will had caught two more fish and packed them in ice by the time he got the call. He looked at the caller ID and of course, it was Jack fucking Crawford. This was meant to be his day off, his time he could spend in paradise miles away from humanity, but of course Jack didn't give a shit about that.

“Hello?”, will picked up gruffly

“Will”

Will sighed , “what is it?”

Sirens wailed faintly in the back of the call, Jack exhaled, clearly stressed out , “its another ripper murder, down at the head of the the river just outside of your town”

Wills brows furrowed knowing all too well where this was going, “wolf trap creek?”

“That's the one”.

Will looked around at the rushing stream and nature surrounding him, so innocent and unknowing about the cruelness of the world they inhabit. “Give me the specific point and I'll be there as soon as i can”.

-

Will briskly packed up his gear, his mind an angry blur, because of course this would be ruined for him too. If it wasn’t one thing than it was another, all his comforts slowly being swallowed up by the FBI. He was convinced that pretty soon they'd find a way to invade his house too, taint his home and all his dogs with the sickness of what he was made to see. Hallucinations already began to creep from the woods and onto his porch, surely they'd have no qualms about inviting themselves inside.  
With the icebox secured in his backseat, Will pulled out of his spot and back onto the dirt road. Jack had texted him the location, around 4 miles west of where will was right now. He figured he had time to drop the fish off in his freezer at home, texting Jack that he was 10 miles away to make up for his lost time. He knew the real explanation would have Jack furious and accusatory over Will's true dedication to the job. 

After putting away the fish and taking the dogs out to pee, Will loaded himself back into the car, grumbling to himself about nothing in particular. There was no singular thing for him to be angry at, it was all of it, it was his job, it was his LIFE.  
-  
Pulling up to the crime scene he saw an angry Jack Crawford conversing with the local police.

“Why weren't we notified sooner?”, his voice boomed as Will stepped out of his car.

The meek police chief crumbled under the accusation, “ we wanted to do our due process sir, we weren’t sure if it was just a simple drowning or not”

“Does this LOOK like a simple drowning?”, Jack gestured to the lake, the victim still unviewable from Wills standpoint as he walked up.

“Hey Jack”, Will awkwardly butted his way into the conversation. When Jack turned to him his face fell in relief by just a fraction.

“Good to see you Will”, Jack tried to fayne a smile. The police chief used the introduction as an out and scrambled away.

“So what is it this time”, Will was already snapping on the gloves Jack handed him and the pair walked toward the river.

“A white female, aged somewhere between 20 to 35, likely died from strangulation but was placed here soon after to slow the process of decay. No froth was found around her lips or nasal passages and there’s Petechial hemorrhages in her eyes. Just a guess for now, we need to get her to Price and Zeller for a more thorough look.”

When Will reached the bank he stepped into the rushing stream without hesitation, wading his way over to the body.

She was laying on her back against a rock, tilted ever so slightly to the side from the rushing water. Her entire stomach had been carved out, arms framing the cavity as if she was swollen with a child. Her left hand dipped into the small pool the hole had created, filled with flowers that spun with the dizzy current. The flowers also adorned her neck and rested under her breasts to prevent them from floating away. A single flower was caught between the right side of her head and the rock, Will could infer there were likely more there as a crown before they had arrived. She looked familiar, clearly artful in her death in a way that he could not quite place. Her skin was pale and milky, blue veins starting to show through her forearms. It seemed that laying her in the lake was the most light she had had on her in ages. As he studied the body, the flower beside her head pulled out from beside her and floated away.

“She hasn't been here for long”, Will broke his trance and looked up at jack. “This would have all been gone with the current if we had come a day later”. 

Jack looked over from the side of the stream, “What do you think it means?”

Will furrowed his brow, trying to reconstruct the motives of the desecrated woman laid out in front of him. The ripper was inside of him yet also so far out of reach. He knew he had seen something like this before, something that reminded him of Hannibal somehow.

“I'm not sure, i feel so close but i can't wrap my head around it,'' Will murmured mostly to himself.

“What?”, Jack called, not too far away but far enough to where wills mutters were washed out by the stream. 

“I said I don't know”, Will called back with a slight twinge to his voice even though he knew it was his own fault Jack couldn't hear him.

Will waded back to the edge of the river and stepped out onto the grass, the dirt beneath him quickly turning to mud with the water that dripped down his jeans.  
“It reminds me of something ive seen before, something like art”, Will said to jack more clearly now that he was in close quarters 

“Aren't all of the ripper's murders like art, is that not the purpose of what he does?”

“Yes i know but”, will huffed, “This time its different, its a tribute”

Will began to walk away, never knowing how to properly say goodbye in situations like these and opting more often than not to just slink away.

“Where are you going Will?”, Jack called after him

“Just,” Will huffed stopping in his tracks and looking back at Jack, “Just give me the night to think it over please”

Jacks face twitched in agitation but quickly conceded. “Okay, just please come down to the office tomorrow so we can talk more about this”

“I Will”, Will was already a damp boot into his car as he waved goodbye. He hoped when he shut his car door he could shut out all of this and leave it where it stood, but of course that didnt happen. He was Will Graham. And nothing, ever came easy.

-

That night Hannibal had Will over for dinner, serving him sweet braised chashu pork on a bed of rice and vegetables that Will had never even heard of. Between bites will told Hannibal about his day, about how he was so rudely interrupted and promising to bring Hannibal one of the fish he had caught at their next appointment  
.  
“The crime scene reminded me of you somehow”, Will dabbed sauce off the side of his lip self consciously.

Hannibal's brows rose, “Oh really?”

“Yea but i can't place it”, Will fumbled with his fork, “I know its a long shot but, Do you know of any art pieces that flowers play a key role in?”

Hannibal smiled, in a way that seemed inappropriate for the situation, almost devious to Will.

“Many come to mind”, he paused looking over will in a way that made his face flush, “ But based on what you've told me i would say it is most reminiscent of Bottecelli’s Primavera, specifically the figure of Flora as she stands near Chloris and Zephyrus. It is one of my favorites, infact i own an art book dedicated specifically to Botticelli's work. I could show you after our meal”.

Wills eyes sparked, “Oh really? That would be wonderful!” 

“Of course Will”, Hannibal smiled, “Of course”

**Author's Note:**

> Chashu is pork belly,, do you get it? guys do you get it? her stomach? pork? belly? ok yea ok nice one


End file.
